Jim and I had a meeting with Ivar Mendez in Halifax last Thursday and we are heading to this remote Mountain Village of Aucapata for most of March! We'll be teaching art to kids in three different schools. Ivar's staff from the Ivar Mendez International Foundation in LaPaz, are helping to plan all of the logistics. Although we've had an art project in this area, Jim and I have never actually been able to get there due to lack of transportation, poor roads and the rainy season. Stay tuned!
Monday, January 30, 2012
January 30, 2012
Jim and I had a meeting with Ivar Mendez in Halifax last Thursday and we are heading to this remote Mountain Village of Aucapata for most of March! We'll be teaching art to kids in three different schools. Ivar's staff from the Ivar Mendez International Foundation in LaPaz, are helping to plan all of the logistics. Although we've had an art project in this area, Jim and I have never actually been able to get there due to lack of transportation, poor roads and the rainy season. Stay tuned!
Monday, January 23, 2012
January 23, 2012
I'm trying to make sure that I can update this blog when we are travelling in South America.
This morning was bitterly cold in Nova Scotia, but by the time I took Marsh, our dog, to the Marsh, the tide was high and the day was glorious. I love this little piece of heaven called Portaupique. When we first got to the marsh, there was an eagle and a flock of black and white sea birds. Always there is something to make me gasp. Luckily Marsh didn't see the eagle or he would have been swimming before we had time to have a walk.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
December27, 2011
Dear Friends, Family and Fans
Once again Jim and i are planning a South American Adventure. I am planning to post the sketches and the ramblings every couple of days. We would be delighted if you'd like to travel with us vicariously. Postings will start on February 5, 2012.
In the meantime, we hope you are enjoying a wonderful holiday season and that your new year will be happy and healthy.
Hugs
Joy
Once again Jim and i are planning a South American Adventure. I am planning to post the sketches and the ramblings every couple of days. We would be delighted if you'd like to travel with us vicariously. Postings will start on February 5, 2012.
In the meantime, we hope you are enjoying a wonderful holiday season and that your new year will be happy and healthy.
Hugs
Joy
Saturday, March 19, 2011
March 20, 2011
I have been touched by the death of Ottilia Chareka. I never met Ottilia and I'd never heard of her until she was murdered this week by husband. A short film on her life captures her tenacity, her committment, her goals and her ambitions. We in North America always feel so entitled and we have so much. Ottilia was born and raised in Africa. She had to really work for her education and at the same time she was raising a family and working as a maid to pay for her tuition. Most people would have dispared and thought that it wasn't possible. I definitely want to have Ottilia in my play "Invisible Prisons". She won't be talking about her abusive marriage but rather her life and her goals. I want her full of life, talking about inspiring all of this world's sisters. Then I will have her lay down with the shroud over her.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Pantanal. Brazil
Giant Pantanal cranes,
(White with black heads and a narrow red featherless neck ring)
Pose, as cranes do,
And seem to announce,
`Welcome to the Pantanal`.
The jungle is alive with sounds;
Screetches, trills, hissing and chortles.
It is every shade of brilliant green.
The ivy covered foliage along the river
Is dotted with flowers;
Hybiscus, morning glories, bird of paradize.
Enormous jungle trees tower behind.
The sliver of moon and a zillion stars
Give way to the morning light.
High wisps of cloud float in the clear light blue.
Throughout the day, the sky darkens.
The clouds build and in the late afternoon
A burst of thunder and rain
Disappates the intense heat.
Just for a moment
The mosquitoes rest.
For three days,
We walk in the jungle.
We ride horses.
We go in boats.
We travel in the back of trucks,
In the day time and at night.
We watch.
We listen.
We breath.
Occationally, we retreat to our dark cold room,
That is deliciously free of the heat and the bugs.
The sounds of howler monkeys
(Much like a super highway)
Start and end each day.
We watch them swinging through the canopy.
A young one rides on its´ mother`s yellow back.
Large black ones dangle from
Hands, feet or tails.
Despite our searches,
We don`t see any jaguars, ant eaters or iguana.
We do see many camen.
From tiny to two meters.
They lounge along the river`s edge
And then slither into the water.
Only their rounded dark eye arches
showing above the surface.
Herd of carabaris,
(Large brown river pigs)
And groupings of black South American river rats
(Also the same size as large pigs)
Parade along the rivers edge
Or munch on the hyacynths in the water.
Two giant South American river otters make an appearance.
As does a deer
And an armadillo.
Overhead,
In the trees,
And in the water
Are birds.
Some like the Pantanal Crane are unfamiliar.
But many look like kingfishers, hawks, hummingbirds
Woodpeckers, herons or egrets.
I am enthralled with all the jungle birds.
The toucans;
With their fuzzy black heads
And colourful eyes
And enormours colourful bills.
The Parrots in all sizes and colours.
The brilliant green ones disappear completely in the green foliage.
The parakeets that swoop
Across the river in pairs;
Flashes of blue or red.
The large white osprey like bird with its´
Slicked back black toupay.
He has adopted us or
Us him.
The tiny inch long ground feeders
In yellow, green and red.
And an unexpected jungle highlight
Turns out to be the cameraderie
amongst our fellow travellers.
They`re from all over the world
And mostly half our age.
We talk religion, ethics,
Books, nonsense,
Mosquitoe bites and politics.
Cold beer and good conversation
Has never tasted so good.
(White with black heads and a narrow red featherless neck ring)
Pose, as cranes do,
And seem to announce,
`Welcome to the Pantanal`.
The jungle is alive with sounds;
Screetches, trills, hissing and chortles.
It is every shade of brilliant green.
The ivy covered foliage along the river
Is dotted with flowers;
Hybiscus, morning glories, bird of paradize.
Enormous jungle trees tower behind.
The sliver of moon and a zillion stars
Give way to the morning light.
High wisps of cloud float in the clear light blue.
Throughout the day, the sky darkens.
The clouds build and in the late afternoon
A burst of thunder and rain
Disappates the intense heat.
Just for a moment
The mosquitoes rest.
For three days,
We walk in the jungle.
We ride horses.
We go in boats.
We travel in the back of trucks,
In the day time and at night.
We watch.
We listen.
We breath.
Occationally, we retreat to our dark cold room,
That is deliciously free of the heat and the bugs.
The sounds of howler monkeys
(Much like a super highway)
Start and end each day.
We watch them swinging through the canopy.
A young one rides on its´ mother`s yellow back.
Large black ones dangle from
Hands, feet or tails.
Despite our searches,
We don`t see any jaguars, ant eaters or iguana.
We do see many camen.
From tiny to two meters.
They lounge along the river`s edge
And then slither into the water.
Only their rounded dark eye arches
showing above the surface.
Herd of carabaris,
(Large brown river pigs)
And groupings of black South American river rats
(Also the same size as large pigs)
Parade along the rivers edge
Or munch on the hyacynths in the water.
Two giant South American river otters make an appearance.
As does a deer
And an armadillo.
Overhead,
In the trees,
And in the water
Are birds.
Some like the Pantanal Crane are unfamiliar.
But many look like kingfishers, hawks, hummingbirds
Woodpeckers, herons or egrets.
I am enthralled with all the jungle birds.
The toucans;
With their fuzzy black heads
And colourful eyes
And enormours colourful bills.
The Parrots in all sizes and colours.
The brilliant green ones disappear completely in the green foliage.
The parakeets that swoop
Across the river in pairs;
Flashes of blue or red.
The large white osprey like bird with its´
Slicked back black toupay.
He has adopted us or
Us him.
The tiny inch long ground feeders
In yellow, green and red.
And an unexpected jungle highlight
Turns out to be the cameraderie
amongst our fellow travellers.
They`re from all over the world
And mostly half our age.
We talk religion, ethics,
Books, nonsense,
Mosquitoe bites and politics.
Cold beer and good conversation
Has never tasted so good.
The Train of Death
Our Lonely Planet Guide and rumours
Told us of giant mosquitoes filling the train cars,
Layers of dust coating all the sleeping passengers,
Crowds of people and contraband packing the aisles,
Derailments, break-downs in steamy jungles,
Even the name:The Train of Death.
In reality the train ride was okay.
It was long, (more than 14 hours)
And it was very rough.
Occationally the train stopped
And peddlers and begging children would fill the aisles.
Occationally the police would check passports, tickets and luggage.
But mostly we slept in air conditioned comfort
Through the jungle on the way to Brazil.
Told us of giant mosquitoes filling the train cars,
Layers of dust coating all the sleeping passengers,
Crowds of people and contraband packing the aisles,
Derailments, break-downs in steamy jungles,
Even the name:The Train of Death.
In reality the train ride was okay.
It was long, (more than 14 hours)
And it was very rough.
Occationally the train stopped
And peddlers and begging children would fill the aisles.
Occationally the police would check passports, tickets and luggage.
But mostly we slept in air conditioned comfort
Through the jungle on the way to Brazil.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Friday
Yesterday, we caught a seven person van back from Samaipata to Santa Cruz. It was cozy- there were ten adults crowded in! Luckily we did have a good driver though and so we avoided the terror that we had on the way to Samaipata. Part way back, in a mountain valley, near a stream and steep rock cliffs, all the traffic had to stop for 45 minutes for road work. Immediately the vendors appeared-- People carrying bowls and baskets and coolers. After a vendor had walked further along, the ground would be littered with all the wrappers of whatever people had bought. Is this just my ethrocentricity showing??
I did do four quartersheet paintings in Samaipata. Painting on location in an unfamiliar country is fraught with nervous worry. People tend not to want their image painted and the buildings tend to be flat and brown on the outsides with anything interesting- flowers, washing, pigs etc., all tucked inside inner courtyarts. And in a high valley, with altidude the lighting is often flat. Anyways, once I have a subject and a spot and I am plunked on my little stool (compliments of Shelley Austin of Sea Shell Design) then I´m usually just fine and I enjoy myself. In a few minutes, I´m usually surrounded by admirers watching my entertainment. The other day, when I painted in the main square, one of the post carnival cleaner-uppers became my front man. He gathered folks around me and then proceeded to point at everything in my painting by touching it with his nail on a stick. All the while, I continued to paint!
The day before, I had about a dozen kids for the afternoon. Most stared with big dark eyes but one little girl was a lively chatterbox with an enormous smile. She rushed home and came back with her ¨Learn to speak English book¨ She annouced Ït is five oclock!" " No" I laughed, "it is three oclock" and we proceeded to chat for the afternoon. By the time she introduced me to her mother and father :¨"Joy, Mother Father" she knew my brother and sister´s names and ages and lots of other random details.
In Santa Cruz, the city is trying to clean up after canival. Most of the buildings need repainting because of all the paint guns. A huge workforce is rewhitewashing the buildings and cleaning the streets. We are also back to the constant horn honking. One chap was crossing himself as he drove by the cathedral, at the same time he was laying on his horn to help more the traffic along! The sidewalks are crowded. Among the brown skinned dark haired Bolivians, there are some skinny, fair skinned, blue eyed menonites with dark severe clothing and sour expressions. Also there are a few nuns wandering around in their habits (and using the internet cafes). So often I´ve seen a short Bolivian girl from the back, with long black braids, wearing a straw hat, and a knee length gathered skirt with an apron tied over and I´ve thought of Anne Shirley. Then they turn around and I see their old wrinkled faces and hands and I realize that these are not young girls! Jim and I always smile and coo at Bolivian babies and kids. It usually backfires. When the babies are old enough to really look at us, they usually recoil in horror and they cry and scream. They find our ¨"üniform" of battered hats, tee shirts, shorts and our old white faces just so different.
Later today we are catching the Train of Death towards Brazil and by tomorrow we will be leaving Bolivia for another year! I have some buns to eat, some bottled water, our bug suits, insect repellent and a cheery disposition ready for the trip!
I did do four quartersheet paintings in Samaipata. Painting on location in an unfamiliar country is fraught with nervous worry. People tend not to want their image painted and the buildings tend to be flat and brown on the outsides with anything interesting- flowers, washing, pigs etc., all tucked inside inner courtyarts. And in a high valley, with altidude the lighting is often flat. Anyways, once I have a subject and a spot and I am plunked on my little stool (compliments of Shelley Austin of Sea Shell Design) then I´m usually just fine and I enjoy myself. In a few minutes, I´m usually surrounded by admirers watching my entertainment. The other day, when I painted in the main square, one of the post carnival cleaner-uppers became my front man. He gathered folks around me and then proceeded to point at everything in my painting by touching it with his nail on a stick. All the while, I continued to paint!
The day before, I had about a dozen kids for the afternoon. Most stared with big dark eyes but one little girl was a lively chatterbox with an enormous smile. She rushed home and came back with her ¨Learn to speak English book¨ She annouced Ït is five oclock!" " No" I laughed, "it is three oclock" and we proceeded to chat for the afternoon. By the time she introduced me to her mother and father :¨"Joy, Mother Father" she knew my brother and sister´s names and ages and lots of other random details.
In Santa Cruz, the city is trying to clean up after canival. Most of the buildings need repainting because of all the paint guns. A huge workforce is rewhitewashing the buildings and cleaning the streets. We are also back to the constant horn honking. One chap was crossing himself as he drove by the cathedral, at the same time he was laying on his horn to help more the traffic along! The sidewalks are crowded. Among the brown skinned dark haired Bolivians, there are some skinny, fair skinned, blue eyed menonites with dark severe clothing and sour expressions. Also there are a few nuns wandering around in their habits (and using the internet cafes). So often I´ve seen a short Bolivian girl from the back, with long black braids, wearing a straw hat, and a knee length gathered skirt with an apron tied over and I´ve thought of Anne Shirley. Then they turn around and I see their old wrinkled faces and hands and I realize that these are not young girls! Jim and I always smile and coo at Bolivian babies and kids. It usually backfires. When the babies are old enough to really look at us, they usually recoil in horror and they cry and scream. They find our ¨"üniform" of battered hats, tee shirts, shorts and our old white faces just so different.
Later today we are catching the Train of Death towards Brazil and by tomorrow we will be leaving Bolivia for another year! I have some buns to eat, some bottled water, our bug suits, insect repellent and a cheery disposition ready for the trip!
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